


Sounds like you and me

by galaxylove



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Drinking, F/F, Fluff, mutual pining I guess, other members get mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 09:32:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14469804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxylove/pseuds/galaxylove
Summary: Momo’s hands unwrap themselves from behind Sana’s neck, reaching down to tug her hand into her own, pulling them both of them out of the bathroom with a teasing smile and intentions written in thick, capital letters across her face - and Sana let her.





	Sounds like you and me

**Author's Note:**

> samo deserve happy fics
> 
> super, mega unbeta'd and i posted a 3am so

   Letting Nayeon smooth talk her into coming out had been the first mistake.

 

  “Come on ‘Tozaki, just one drink?”

 

  Rule number one: ‘Just one drink’ absolutely does not mean just one fucking drink. No matter how many times Nayeon insisted that she would just have one, itty bitty barely alcoholic beverage for the promised short duration of this evening, they both knew it wasn't going to end that way.

 

  Her second mistake had been thinking _yeah -_ maybe she _did_ owe it to herself to kick back and relax for just one night with the girls. She’d just submitted a fucking behemoth of a final essay for her social studies class (a gargantuan beast that had taken her a little over two months to tame) and both she (and Nayeon) knew she didn’t have any major upcoming projects due anytime soon.

 

  So yeah. That had definitely been mistake number two. Paired ever so sweetly with the fact that Nayeon knew exactly how to make even the blandest of events sound like the party of the millennium with ease and well, Sana didn’t stand much chance really.

 

  Her third mistake was maybe the worst one of all, really, and _that_ was deciding to do shots with Jihyo and Mina.

 

  If she didn’t stand a chance against Nayeon and her pretty words, she didn’t even know where to begin against these two.

 

  They all knew Jihyo was the reigning shot queen of their social circle, as proclaimed ever since Jackson Wang’s graduation party where she outdid half the football team _and_ would have kept going if they didn’t run out of liquor. Mina was a lot less vocal about her tolerance, but they had been close enough for years by now for them all to know the other girl was the only one who could even hold a light to Jihyo’s drinking prowess.

 

  Sana had lost count somewhere, but there’s a faint pink dusting Mina’s cheeks and Jihyo is yelling victoriously after slamming the last glass on the table - and if _Mina_ is visibly showing the effects then that means Sana’s _fucked._

 

  The fourth mistake was finding Momo.

 

  Shaky, unsteady legs dragged her from her stool to some people that might _(?)_ have been the rest of her friends near the bar, swaying and almost tripping over numerous feet on her travels. Momentum is a thing and she accidentally crashes into a tiny back, and she’s deliriously happy when the tiny back whirls around with an angry scowl set on their face that soon morphs into a bemused grin.

 

  “Having fun?” Chaeyoung coos, tactful arm reaching out to wrap around the older girls’ waist to keep her steady and let her lean against her.

 

  Sana nods, once and then twice a little more exaggerated and enthusiastically, letting her head rag-doll and her neck go limp. She settles heavily against the younger girl, nuzzling her nose against her neck and yells yes in response.

 

  She feels Chaeyoung flinch at the volume, hears a resounding round of laughter from her friends and tilts her head sluggishly to squint at them blearily. Tzuyu and Dahyun are grinning down at her, the latter with her phone in her hand and Sana thinks maybe she’s been recording her this whole time. The rational voice in the back of her brain reminds her she has an entire folder full of blackmail fodder for the younger girl, so whatever potentially embarrassing stunts she pulls tonight could easily be erased from memory with a few simple reminders of the power in her grasp.

 

  She turns to look further around the circle, dragging Chaeyoung with her. Half-lidded eyes end up on Momo, and they spark open.

 

 The other girl looked just as gone as she was, body subconsciously swaying to the beat of the club infused track thrumming through the speakers right now, and she gets a goofy grin back.

 

  “Sana!” She yells, shrill and emotional as though she’d gone entire years without seeing a trace of her.

 

  They’d met up for lunch, actually, but something in Sana’s chest swells at the ever present affection in the girls tone, and she yells her name back with just as much enthusiasm.

 

  She forgets she’s still plastered up against Chaeyoung, until the younger girl detaches her clingy limbs from her body and all but throws her onto Momo.

 

  It turns into a mess; both drunks wobbling precariously trying to balance the other, hands waving in the air and fists grabbing at clothes and limbs and whatever they could grab a hold of to stay upright. To their credit, they only spill half of Momo’s drink in the process, and Sana only bumped her knee against a stray bar stool twice, but none of that matters so much when Sana stares straight ahead into wide blown eyes looking at her like she’d hung the moon and all the tiny, faraway stars in the sky.

 

  The fifth mistake was finding _Momo_ , flushed from all the alcohol in her system and from clinging onto whatever friend or stranger would dance with her for the night, hunched over the bathroom sink lazily splashing water on her face.

 

  Sana stumbles through the door, the music muted as the door swings shut and aims her arms vaguely in Momo’s direction. Fingers find purchase and she grasps firmly at the fabric of her shirt, pressing the full length of her body up against the older girl. She rubs her face along the back of her shirt, absently hopes Momo won’t notice the make-up prints she leaves behind.

 

  The tap shuts off and Momo begins to wiggle in her grasp, grabbing the arms around her waist to loosen enough that she could fully turn around and face whoever was behind her. The grin on Momo’s face when she realises it’s Sana has the younger girl reeling forward in delight, closer until they’re both standing face to face.

 

  There’s a scant few inches between them. They’ve been in this position countless times before, completely wrecked and grinning against each other for some sort of stability, close enough to smell the alcohol on each other’s breath as they laugh about the events that had led them here.

 

  Momo smells like whatever fruity concoction Jeongyeon had been buying her all night, a little too sweet but with the sharp kick of vodka somewhere underneath. Sana doesn't know what she smells like; she imagines it’s some sort of terrible combination of the drinks she mixed and matched to her heart's content and most likely the overpowering taste of the energy drink from those shots, but she buries her nose against Momo’s neck and inhales - a wave of comfort washing over her at the familiar scent.

 

  A few moments pass and Momo’s arms come up to wrap loosely around Sana’s waist, pulling her more tightly against her and pressing her further against her skin. Sana hums contentedly, mouth somewhere in the juncture between Momo’s neck and shoulder, and the older girl stiffens beneath her.

 

  And then her sixth mistake; letting her intoxicated mind drown out any lingering thread of restraint holding her back, letting herself press lazy, open-mouthed kisses against Momo’s sweat-slicked skin, letting her mouth follow the curvature of Momo’s throat as it swelled underneath her touch and letting Momo’s hand thread itself around the back of her neck and drag her into a messy, heart racing kiss that has something warm and thick and heavy pooling next to the liquor sitting cosily in her stomach.

 

  It’s messier than she remembers, desperation coating every movement as Sana’s hands dragged heavily against Momo’s waist, reaching to press insistently against the small of her back and have the older girl as close to her as physically possible. She remembers Momo’s lips against hers, and dragging along her jaw and down her neck to press long, lingering kisses against her collarbone, a stark contrast to the fire spreading through Sana’s veins urging her to go faster and faster. Momo was slow, relaxed, as though they had all the time in the world.

 

  She almost regrets choosing to wear the dress she had for tonight, exposing the entirety of her shoulders and neckline for the world to see and for Momo to press tantalizingly slow kisses across the entire expanse of her skin. It’s almost enough to make Sana forget that they’re still hiding in the bathroom in a club with all of their friends somewhere outside, pressing each other against the cool tiles of the wall.

 

  Almost, until the bathroom door flies open with a bang, the leg Momo had begun to wrap around Sana’s waist dropping to the floor in delayed haste, both girls startling out of the haze and pulling away from each other with alcohol-clouded eyes to watch some girl who’d clearly partied a little too hard stumble frantically towards a stall.

 

  Momo’s hands unwrap themselves from behind Sana’s neck, reaching down to tug her hand into her own, pulling them both of them out of the bathroom with a teasing smile and intentions written in thick, capital letters across her face - and Sana let her.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

  And now she’s here. Sunlight is streaming lazily through the crack in the curtain, illuminating the room in a sublime hue of golden light, and the angry, red digits glaring at her from the alarm clock on the bedside table is telling her it’s 08:43am. The bed is warm, much warmer than it should be, and it takes her a few, sluggish moments to realise she’s not alone, and there’s a familiar presence pressing tightly against her back and a familiar weight hanging loosely around her waist.

 

  She’d turn her head to look but she doesn't have to; can tell from the soft snores rumbling softly near her ear that it’s Momo wrapped around her, as if the overwhelming scent of the other girl imprinted in the fabric of the sheets wasn't indicative enough. Momo sighs in her sleep, mumbling something incoherent against Sana’s shoulder and shifting behind her to press more tightly against the younger girl. The mattress dips, sliding their bodies impossibly closer to each other in the divot and something earnestly affectionate dips just as low in Sana’s stomach when Momo wiggles against her sleepily and finally settles in place behind her.

 

  She remembers to breathe when soft rumbles brush past her ear again and the arm around her waist goes limp with sleep. This is uncertain, uncharted territory for the both of them, and Sana lies there desperately trying to recall the events that led them here.

 

  It wasn't unusual for her to wake up in Momo’s bed. By now it was just as familiar and welcoming to the girl as her own bed, years of growing up by Momo’s side and countless sleepovers a testament to that fact. It wasn't unusual for Sana to wake up with her best friend wrapped around her either, or to find Momo nestled cosily in her own arms. They were both clingy; they knew and accepted this easily, and it was commonplace for the girls to wake up with their legs intertwined and limbs thrown messily over the other. So, the thigh currently in between her legs wasn't the problem, nor was the lax grip around her waist.

 

  None of this was unusual. Not waking up in Momo’s bed, or waking up as the little spoon, or even the fact that Sana was nursing the beginnings of what felt like a _killer_ hangover, courtesy of shots she’d lost count of and far-too-loud club music. Not even waking up wearing one of Momo’s oversized sleep shirts, with last night's clothes thrown lazily somewhere on the floor, because the amount of Momo’s shirts hanging right next to her own in her wardrobe is almost concerning at this point.

 

  It’s none of that. All of that is age old and worn into her bones as deeply as Momo is woven into her life; tangled, messy threads that intersect and cut across to tie together in a tight, unbreakable knot that she wouldn't ever dare dream of tugging loose.

 

  But there’s another thread, new and uncertain and yet Sana knows it’s been buried deep at the bottom of the pile since she can remember, winding itself tighter and higher until it surfaces threatening to weaken the familiar knot that is Momo and Sana, and that - _that’s_ the problem.

 

  The string in her chest tightens when Momo stirs behind her, letting out a drawn out, low pitched hum as she stretched awake, leg stiffening between Sana’s and arm tightening around her waist before relaxing suddenly.

 

  “G’morning.” The older girl murmurs in her ear, words slurred and groggy from disuse before letting out a loud groan. Something presses against Sana’s back and she’s sure it’s Momo’s forehead, can practically feel the furious scrunch of her brows as she screws her eyes shut as she finally feels the impending hangover hit and the younger girl smiles unknowingly.

 

  “What the fuck did Jeongyeon give me.” Momo groans again, words muffled against Sana’s back. “I can’t even remember half of last night.”

 

  The affection in her stomach is shoved aside by a banal sense of dread, creeping in and sitting cold and heavy deeply in her gut as Momo continued to wake up.

 

  “How much do you remember?” Sana asks softly, hands reaching up to settle around Momo’s own wrapped around her waist. Her thumb rubs slow, reassuring swipes against her intertwined fingers, and her heart lurches against her ribcage at the pleased little hum Momo emits in response.

 

  “Maybe up to seeing you come over, and like, a dance or two after that? Nothing after that though. Did anything happen?”

 

  There’s nothing but drowsy sincerity in Momo’s voice, and usually it would leave Sana feeling warm and content, but the frost in her stomach is spreading slowly like ice in her veins and the warm arm wrapped around her is doing little to thaw it out. She realises belatedly that it’s conflict, and her mind flits to a choice.

 

  Now, this could be the scene in every tragic love story where she keeps quiet. Where, the girl bottles up the feelings in her chest and puts on a pretty smile and says that ‘ _no, nothing happened Momo_ ’. Nothing will change between them, and Momo and Sana would stay as Momo and Sana and _nothing would change._

 

  (But there’s a little spark of courage thrumming steadily beneath her ribs, and she exhales all the air in her lungs to loosen the thread around her chest to give it room to breathe.)

 

  “We kissed.”

 

  A prolonged, terrifying moment of silence stretches between them. Momo stops moving behind her, body stiffening briefly as the loose arm resting on the curve of her hip tightens and for a moment, Sana can’t breathe.

 

  Momo’s arm shifts, reaching further around Sana to wrap tightly around her waist and pull her more snugly back against her, and she feels Momo bury her face against the back of her shoulder again.

 

  “Okay.”

 

  Wait, _what?_

 

“Okay? Okay? Momo, what do you MEAN okay?”

 

  She feels Momo hum against her shoulder, lips pursed out of effort not to laugh.

 

  “Did you want to? Kiss me?” Momo murmurs, the dredges of sleep still dripping off of her words and dousing the uncertainty simmering somewhere in her stomach.

 

  Sana hesitates before she answers, even as the answer pushes out of her chest to sit on the tip of her tongue. Deft fingers drum a steady rhythm against the her tummy, tapping soothingly against the relaxed softness and Sana exhales heavily.

 

  “Yes.” She confesses, voice softer and quieter than she’s heard from herself in a while.

 

  There’s another moment then, where something stretches between them that Sana can’t quite put a name to, punctuated only by the way Momo’s fingers move against her skin.

 

  “Then okay.” Momo sighs relaxedly, pressing a small, affectionate kiss just above the hem of Sana’s shirt and snuggling closer against her.

 

  She says it so nonchalantly, so easily - as though they were discussing the weather or whatever new, convoluted ‘get rich quick scheme’ Dahyun had thought of recently, and not as if Sana could still remember every second she’d had Momo pressed up against the walls of that bathroom in the early hours of the morning.

 

  “Okay?” Sana responds hesitantly, unable to keep the confusement from slipping into her voice.

 

  “It doesn't have to change anything,” Momo begins, voice as relaxed and steady as it had been since they’d started talking. It soothes the nerves that hadn't settled since Sana had woken up, and she hopes Momo doesn't pay too much attention to the frantic pace her heart has been beating against her ribs this entire time. “We can still be us. Just me, and you, and we can continue to be like this.”

 

  “Like what?” Sana asks softly.

 

  “Best friends.” Momo replies hesitantly, as though she’s unsure, and Sana notices that her breathing is shaky and unsteady, the rise and fall of Momo’s chest swelling against her back unpredictably. “We can just be best friends.”

 

  The fingers on her stomach have stopped their game, clenching into a tight fist that weighs heavily against them both, and Sana realises that Momo’s arms are trembling around her waist. The knot tightens instinctively, and the tiny spark of courage flares into a bright, brilliant current that jolts something dormant in her mind back to life.

 

  She turns around so that she’s facing the older girl, finally face to face for the first time since last night and despite her steady voice there’s a wet sheen tracing Momo’s eyes and Sana looks at her earnestly.

 

  “Just best friends.” She whispers into the space between them. Momo glances at her then, eyes searching her face for something, and Sana lets out a small grin.

 

  “Just best friends,” she repeats, softer this time, and shifts closer til there’s barely a hair’s breadth between them. She stretches forward, pressing a soft, quick kiss to the tip of Momo’s nose, smiling at the surprise that blooms across the older girl’s face as she does. “Who do this sometimes.”

 

  She leans forward again, kissing the top of Momo’s cheek.

 

  “And this.”

 

  Another kiss, this time on the swell of her jaw.

 

  “And this.”

 

  One more, just on the corner of Momo’s mouth that had begun to stretch into a slow, uncontainable grin.

 

  “And this.”

 

  She pulls away, looking for any sign of hesitation or uncertainty on Momo’s face, but all she sees is wonder and adoration and years of trust and love staring back.

 

  She brings a hand up to rest on Momo’s cheek, thumb stroking the smooth, soft skin tenderly as she cups her face to angle her towards her. Momo’s already leaning in, eager lips swallowing the laugh threatening to spill out from Sana’s lips as she kisses her languidly, a slow, deep kiss that leaves Sana breathless and Momo grinning like a fool.

 

  “That doesn't sound like best friends to me.” Momo laughs breathily, lips curved into a permanent smile carved expertly on her cheeks, and Sana laughs unashamedly when the older girl pulls her back in for another kiss, more fervent than before and she responds enthusiastically, lips moving demandingly against her own.

 

  They’ve shifted; Momo hovering slightly above the other girl who’s laying back and looking at her as if she’d rob all the stars in the sky for her, with her short hair fanning around her face messily and ungracefully. And she’s beautiful, heartbreakingly so, and Sana’s fingers tug playfully at the front of her shirt.

 

  “What does it sound like to you, then? She says teasingly, breath hitching when Momo pulls her hand up to press soft, feather-light kisses to her fingertips.

 

  “It sounds like you and me.”

 

 

 

 

   (Her seventh mistake, was not kissing Momo sooner.)

**Author's Note:**

> *finger guns*


End file.
